


Nicotine

by mistleto3



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, mikoreiweek2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 19:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12217743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistleto3/pseuds/mistleto3
Summary: When Reisi is having a bad day, the last person he wants to meet in a bar is Mikoto.





	Nicotine

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first proper attempt at writing actual mikorei and I'm excite, I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> For Mikorei Week 2017, day 3: Jonquil (love me/desire)
> 
> Based on the prompt by anonymous on tumblr "#39- getting caught" from [this](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/163736344699/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill) list. 
> 
> This fic can also be found on [tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/165859884279/nicotine)

Reisi awoke blearily, and immediately looked to his left. For half a second, he allowed himself to feel a bitter, sinking disappointment to find he was alone in his bed, and the other half of the mattress had apparently been vacated. And then he simply felt like an idiot for expecting anything different.

It was Suoh Mikoto he was talking about after all. Mikoto, who he never quite saw eye-to-eye with. Mikoto, who couldn’t seem to communicate about anything. Mikoto, who had completely different ideals to him. Mikoto, who wouldn’t have known Reisi was in love with him if it bit him on the ass.

Reisi sank back on his pillow, letting out a sigh as another wave of mortification rolled over him. He couldn’t believe he’d let it happen. But at the time, Mikoto had seemed to be exactly what he needed, and Reisi had been tipsy and his guard was down and his inhibitions had cracked under the weight of the past few weeks, so he didn’t quite have the strength to force himself to say no. Especially not with Mikoto sweet talking him. Talking him into it, and then sneaking out before he woke up.

It was almost insulting; it wasn’t like Reisi was some stranger that Mikoto had picked up in a bar. They were _friends._ Reisi had even hoped they might be more than that after last night, but apparently his hopes had been misguided. The sting of the broken promises and the lies was sharp and raw, and he almost felt used. Dirtied.

He screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath to try and steady himself. He didn’t know how he’d ever be able to look Mikoto in the eye again.

* * *

 

Reisi’s tactic of handling the stress of his work was to simply bury it. He never let a whisper of it show in his demeanour, and tried to relieve it the best he could with his hobbies, when he had time to partake in them.

Which worked, until it didn’t.

There was only so long he could keep up his faultless professionalism as the burden of being a King mounted on his shoulders. Only so much stress he could quash, deep into the pit of his stomach, until the day-to-day pressure of his job started to wear him thin and he felt like he was more stress than man. It would get to the point where he felt as though he was tearing at the seams and there was only so long he could keep up his serene front before it fractured under the mounting strain and everything that had been shoved behind it burst out cataclysmically.

It was only when he was teetering on the point of meltdown that he allowed himself to take a break, reasoning it would be better for his clan if he was away for two days than it would be if he had a minor psychotic break. Usually, he would go somewhere like the countryside or the beach, somewhere quiet where he could re-centre himself, surrounded by nature. But this time, something possessed him to decide that getting absolutely wasted might be a good solution instead. He usually didn’t let things get so bad, but the last few weeks had been one crisis after another, and he hadn’t had the time to get away. By now, he wasn’t sure he could get the flurry of concerns and uncompleted tasks and responsibilities and worries to quiet down long enough for him to properly meditate, so he decided it might be worth attempting to ‘drink to forget,’ as he’d heard it called.

Reisi wasn’t usually much of a drinker. He never usually had the opportunity to go out and drink, and in his younger years he’d never been the type to go out and get wasted. As a result, he felt a little out of his comfort zone sitting alone at a bar. But the important thing was that the fog manifesting behind his eyes as he emptied his glass was dulling the concerns. They seemed sluggish, fuzzy, far away, and the immediacy and urgency with which they had been racing around his head earlier that day had subsided significantly, which was a relief.

Until he had company. Reisi prided himself in keeping up appearances, so he had purposely chosen a bar outside of his own Kingly territory to reduce the chances of bumping into anyone he knew – getting seen drinking by himself seemed improper for a King.

So of course it was just Reisi’s luck that half an hour after he’d arrived at the bar, Awashima Seri walked through the door, arm in arm with Kusanagi Izumo. Reisi braced himself for the inevitable judgement.

“Didn’t expect to catch you here,” Izumo said pleasantly.

“Nor did I- do you not own your own bar?” Reisi replied.

“Sometimes it’s nice to have someone else pour the drinks for ya.”

“That seems fair.”

To Reisi’s relief, Seri merely nodded a greeting without saying more than a word, and then the pair turned away to find a booth the other side of the room. Still, it was unpleasant, and every now and then, Reisi had the feeling he was being watched by his colleague and her date. It was vaguely humiliating. He had been tempted to leave, but he knew it would seem suspicious for him to vanish immediately after his co-worker had arrived, so he stayed where he was for what he deemed was an acceptable amount of time for his leaving to seem less conspicuous. He had been just about to get up and make his escape when the bell above the door tinkled to announce the arrival of the person Reisi least wanted to see.

Suoh Mikoto.

And of course he had to come and sit right beside Reisi.

“I don’t feel like breathing toxic air right now,” Reisi quipped.

Mikoto ignored him, ordering both of them a drink.

“What are you doing here?”

“Heard you were moping,” Mikoto said simply.

“Has my employee been gossiping about me?”

“Kusanagi said Awashima said you seem stressed.”

Reisi harrumphed. “So they called you to make sure I didn’t drink myself to death?” he said sarcastically.

Mikoto shrugged. “I came to drink with you.”

“I appreciate the offer, but that won’t be necessary.” As Reisi spoke, the bartender placed the drinks that Mikoto had ordered in front of them.

“Too late.”

 Reisi sighed, but picked up the glass.

“So, why ya stressed?”

“I wasn’t aware you were the type of person who talked about issues such as these. Or anything, for that matter.”

Mikoto shrugged, but continued looking at Reisi over the rim of his glass expectantly.

“I am aware that you were put up to this by Kusanagi-san and Awashima-kun. You are not obligated to go through with it. I do not need to be babysat, especially by you.”

“I figure they just think you need someone like you ya can talk to.”

“And what makes you think I’m at all like you?”

“We’re both Kings, aren’t we?”

“That’s about where the similarity ends.”

“Yeah, but it means I know what’s up with you.”

“No offence, Suoh, but you couldn’t possibly know ‘what’s up’ with me.”

“Why?”

“Because you aren’t the head of an incredibly busy semi-governmental department with hundreds of employees and a wide range of regulations and responsibilities.”

“I delegate.”

“It isn’t that simple-…”

“Munakata. Do you really wanna turn this into a pissing contest? Cause I got you beat on that one.”

Reisi sighed, but he supposed Mikoto was right, in a way. Reisi had a lot on his plate, but he was a workaholic so he didn’t mind so much, whereas Mikoto had only a couple of things, but one of them was keeping the notoriously unwieldy and incredibly dangerous Red aura under control. Reisi had a lot of things to battle with on a daily basis, but most of them were bureaucratic nonsense and red tape; at least he didn’t spend much time fighting his own Sword of Damocles.

Mikoto swirled the glass in his hand idly. “I figure you’re bein’ a swan.”

“…Pardon?”

Mikoto chuckled softly at how odd the metaphor sounded coming out of his own mouth. “’S somethin’ Totsuka said to me once. Swans look graceful, but under the water they’re paddling like they’re gonna drown.”

Reisi paused, suspicious.

“And by the looks of it, you’re gettin’ tired o’ paddling. So you’re drinkin’ away your problems, but ya don’t seem like the kinda person who’s all that practiced in it.”

“I can hold down my drink just fine.”

“There’s a difference between drinking and sad drinking.”

Reisi merely harrumphed. “Well, what do you do when you grow ‘tired of paddling’?” While Reisi didn’t gesture the air quotes around the last three words, they were evident in his tone.

“Smoke. Drink. Nap. Nearly kill people by accident.”

“It seems we both need to work on our coping mechanisms.”

“Sparrin’ with you helps. Gives me a chance to let loose without, ya know, havin’ to worry about accidentally killing someone.”

“For me, sparring with you usually means an hour of paperwork concerning the damage to property that occurred.”

A faintly apologetic smirk crossed Mikoto’s lips.

“…I suppose it does help, though.”

“We could always go out into the woods. Squirrels ain’t gonna sue for damages.”

“I suppose…” The more Mikoto talked about it, the more a quick sparring match sounded appealing.

“We ain’t far from somewhere now. Ten minute drive, maybe. Fifteen, if you ain’t speeding.”

Reisi gave him an admonishing look, but sighed as he felt his better judgement beginning to buckle under the temptation.

“I don’t have my weapon,” he protested weakly.

“What’s wrong with these?” Mikoto lay his hand on the back of Reisi’s briefly. “I ain’t got a fancy sword and I still manage to beat the shit out of people on a daily basis.”

“…Fine.”

Mikoto downed the last of his drink, and Reisi did the same, then the pair got to their feet and left the bar. Mikoto led him around the back of the bar to the car park, where he unchained a motorcycle from a railing.

“Suoh, you’ve been drinking.”

“Only one drink.”

“I didn’t even know you owned a motorcycle.” 

“I don’t; it’s Kamamoto’s. I borrowed it. With permission,” he added, seeing the suspicious look on Reisi’s face. He removed his helmet from his backpack, then took another from the top box and offered it to Reisi. “See, I’m responsible. I wear a helmet,” he said playfully.

“Indeed.” Reisi took the helmet and put it on, then climbed onto the back of the vehicle, behind Mikoto. The sudden closeness seemed far too intimate, and Reisi was uncomfortably aware of the warmth of Mikoto’s body where his back was pressed to his torso.

“You’re gonna have to hold on, you know.”

“To what?”

“Me.”

Reisi almost paused, not sure how comfortable he was with the prospect of wrapping his arms around his very attractive friend (it was impossible not to notice how attractive he actually was in this close quarters), but he was given no choice when Mikoto kicked the engine into life and revved it. The sudden snarl of the ignition jolted Reisi into complying.

The entire ride (which Reisi was certain passed far too quickly for Mikoto to have been driving at the speed limit), he was hyperaware of just how close his friend was to him, the shape of his body pressed against his front, the hard muscle beneath his clothes, the smell of his cologne and cigarette smoke and the leather of his jacket… it was almost dizzying. And far too intimate. Reisi had gotten very good at pretending his feelings towards his friend didn’t stray beyond professionalism, but the closeness of only being separated from him by a few layers of fabric sent the thoughts he thought he’d buried deep into some dark recess spiralling back into the forefront of his mind. Apparently, in his months of suppressing his “crush” (he cringed internally at the word- it seemed so childish), he’d forgotten just how strong the feelings he’d been quashing actually were. And now they hit him all at once, and Reisi felt feverish; his chest tightened and his heart was racing, battering against the inside of his ribcage. The road blurring past them seemed to fall away, out of focus. His throat was so dry that he was almost struggling to breathe.

Now he remembered why he’d tried so hard to suppress this; because it made him weak, unfocussed. He barely even recognised himself- this wasn’t the cool-headed, professional Reisi he’d come to know himself as. He’d buried this because he had wanted Mikoto so much that it was making him fall apart at the seams. Mikoto was his vice; he was like nicotine. He knew every time he gave an inch to those thoughts about him that it was bad for him. A path to an early grave, all the warnings on the front of cigarette boxes. Mikoto would never want him. Reisi wasn’t sure why he was so convinced of that, but the idea of him returning those feelings seemed ludicrous.

And even if he did they would never work. They were two opposite poles- Mikoto was wild, fiery, driven by impulse and instinct, and Reisi was reason and logic and everything that was so completely incompatible with everything that Mikoto was. He was too smart to think he could change him, too. He _knew_ Mikoto would only end up burning him, just like he knew the burning in his lungs and the bitter aftertaste of every drag on a cigarette.

But the _high…_

He knew that “just this once” was a folly in situations like this, but he couldn’t not allow himself to enjoy this time alone with Mikoto. Just this once.

Before long, Mikoto slowed and pulled over at the side of the road, and the pair dismounted the motorcycle, which Mikoto wheeled past the treeline to rest it on its kickstand out of sight of the street. Both of them hung their helmets on the handlebars, and when Reisi looked up from doing so, Mikoto was watching him, smirking.

“What?”

“I’ll give you a ten second head start.”

“Suoh?”

“Nine… eight…”

Reisi didn’t need telling twice. With a barely-suppressed grin, he took off at a run into the trees, leaping over the roots snaking through the undergrowth. It felt like being a child again, playing tag with his friend, but with the haziness of the alcohol he’d drunk beginning to soften everything around the edges, and the thrill of letting himself indulge in Mikoto, it was different. The exhilaration was heightened somehow. It was definitely more fun than he’d ever had playing with the other kids as a child.

The tell-tale roar of flames and a flash of orange light throwing twisted shadows across the trees in front of Reisi told him that the countdown was up, and Mikoto was giving chase. He braced for impact, feeling his own power kindle within him, a sort of cool, staticky sensation that trickled down into his fingertips as his aura flared around his hands, just in time for Mikoto to dart past him. They both skidded to a halt and squared up to each other, their chests heaving. Mikoto’s face was lit up in a grin by the blue and red light emanating from their hands.

He predictably made the first move, and Reisi sidestepped out of his path, then aimed a retaliatory punch at his friend, who knocked it aside with his forearm. They exchanged another flurry of blows, then Mikoto darted to his right to dodge a swift kick, and raced off into the woods. Reisi found himself laughing as he gave chase. Fighting like this felt even more heady than their usual scuffles over territory and legislation in the inner city. In the dark, he was chasing the sound of Mikoto’s footsteps, following the embers of red light weaving between the black pillars of the tree trunks. The still evening air whipped through his clothes and tugged at his hair as he rushed after his friend, dancing in and out of the branches as he threw punches and dodged Mikoto’s counterattacks, spinning around each other, losing themselves in the shadows. When they caught up with each other, they fought in the flashes of coloured light that flared with each blow, and it was so difficult not to get distracted by the way the shadows that the red and blue and violet flashes cast across Mikoto’s face.

But the hardest thing for Reisi was trying to catch his breath seeing Mikoto grinning like that, having worked himself loose. It was rare to see him without the usual crease in his forehead, the sluggishness, the weight that seemed to hang from his shoulders, dragging him down. Mikoto wasn’t the sort of person who smiled often, and when he did, they were only brief flickers, smirks. But this was almost genuine. There was a sort of peacefulness in his playful expression, like the wind in his hair had blown away the troubles on his shoulders like dry leaves. Reisi had never seen him look so content; there was always a sort of darkness behind those hazel irises, the stony, condensed remains of whatever it was that Mikoto worked so hard to crush down within himself. But Reisi couldn’t see that darkness anymore, not now.

He understood why, too. There was something about being out here, just the two of them, that was so incredibly relaxing. He felt like he and Mikoto were tuned to one another, and everything else, everything that had been stressing him out and keeping him up at night, faded into the background. It was impossible to dwell on any of it when his brain was alight with his focus on Mikoto - tracking him, anticipating his movements, dodging his attacks, trying to find an opening to deliver his own. The adrenaline and the concentration made the tension fall out of Reisi’s body. Fighting hand-to-hand like this only intensified the feeling; when he couldn’t stay at an arm’s length from his opponent, everything felt so much more immediate. The only thing he could think about was Mikoto- where he was, which direction he would attack from next, where the weak spots in his defence were, how beautiful he looked smiling like that…

Reisi’s concentration only faltered for a second, but it was enough to give Mikoto the upper hand, and the next thing he knew, he had his back pinned to a tree, with Mikoto’s fist wound in the front of his shirt. Both of them were breathing heavily from exertion, but they were still smiling.

“I win,” Mikoto said.

Reisi huffed. “It would seem that way.”

“You thirsty after that?”

“I suppose.” It was hard to breathe with Mikoto still so close to him; he hadn’t moved from where he stood, pinning Reisi to the tree. “B-…” He paused and cleared his throat. “Back to the bar?”

“I was just thinking that.” It was only then that Mikoto stepped back, and Reisi could finally force air into his lungs now that his personal space was empty once more.

As the pair walked back towards where the motorbike was parked, Mikoto pulled a slightly crumpled carton of cigarettes from his pocket and offered Reisi one, and Reisi took it, allowing Mikoto to light it with a spark as he clicked his fingers. Reisi figured there was no harm in accepting a smoke; he was already indulging one vice today. They walked in comfortable silence, so close that their hands almost brushed together more than once, and each near miss made Reisi’s fingertips tingle, as though with pins and needles. But despite that, there was still a sense of peace as they walked back; it was quiet away from the city centre, and having blown off all that negative energy left a sort of pleasant afterglow. It was the first time Reisi had truly felt calm in a while.

It didn’t last long, though. Getting back on the motorcycle and wrapping his arms around Mikoto’s waist once more sent Reisi’s pulse skyrocketing, and he could feel his throat going dry again. If anything, the journey back to the bar seemed worse than the ride into the woods - he could feel Mikoto’s ribcage heaving from the exertion of sparring, and he couldn’t shake the image of Mikoto grinning as he pinned him against a tree, or the thought of how close their faces had been, close enough that Reisi had been able to feel Mikoto’s ragged breath against his cheeks. Reisi was no stranger to getting into other people’s personal space - he had no issues with doing so most of the time – but this was different. He’d never felt his heartbeat jolt like that before.

By the time they arrived back at the bar, Reisi was in desperate need of another drink, and he was more than grateful when Mikoto ordered two glasses of whiskey and slid one across to him. He took a deep swig from the glass, unable to keep his gaze from flickering back over to his friend every few seconds. Now that they were back in a better lit area, he noticed a scratch on Mikoto’s cheekbone, surrounded by a smear of drying blood.

“You’re bleeding,” Reisi pointed out.

“Huh?”

Reisi brushed Mikoto’s cheek just below the wound with his index finger. “You must have gotten caught on a sharp branch or something.”

“I didn’t notice.”

Reisi downed the last of his drink, wincing slightly at the way the liquid burned his throat, and then he grasped Mikoto by his wrist. “Come on, let me clean it up.”

“It’s fine.”

“You don’t know what cut it; it needs cleaning.” As he spoke, Reisi tugged impatiently on Mikoto’s sleeve.

Seeming not to have the energy to resist, Mikoto finished his drink, then got to his feet with a sigh. “Fine.”

Reisi led him into the bathroom, hoping the lighting would be a little better so he could get a closer look at the wound. Mikoto folded his arms petulantly as Reisi lay his hand on Mikoto’s jaw and leaned in close to examine the scratch.

“It doesn’t appear to be very deep, so it should require no further medical attention,” he concluded, then dampened a paper towel to wipe away the drying blood.

“I’m not a kid. Ya don’t have to clean me up.”

“I don’t have any reason to believe you would do so yourself.”

Mikoto clicked his tongue, but allowed Reisi to tend to the wound. But as Reisi did so, he found his gaze wandering up to look into Mikoto’s eyes, to watch his expression. His face was flushed slightly from coming into the warmth of the bar from out in the cold, and his eyes still had a glimmer of joy in them from their escapades in the woods.

_God he’s handsome._

And then Reisi realised five seconds too late that he had finished cleaning the wound, and had simply been standing there, cupping Mikoto’s jaw and gazing at him like an idiot. He withdrew his hand as though he’d been shocked and tossed the paper towel in the bin, clearing his throat as he did so. He could feel his cheeks warming, which only mortified him even more. He was the Blue King; blushing like a schoolboy wasn’t something he had ever done. It felt like all of his usual decorum had blown away like smoke in the wind.

Mikoto was chuckling at him, which only made it worse. Reisi avoided his eye.

“Ya don’t normally have an issue gettin’ up in my personal space,” Mikoto pointed out.

“Who said I’m having an issue?”

“You’re blushing.”

“No, I am not. I am simply not much of a whiskey drinker; I fear it’s going straight to my head.”

“So you gazing into my eyes just then was…?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Reisi adjusted his glasses, but he felt his chest constrict as Mikoto stepped closer to him.

“And the bulge in your underwear when I had you pinned to that tree?”

“I did no such thing!” Reisi protested, feeling his cheeks warm even more, and Mikoto laughed at the tease. Reisi was definitely sure the accusation was false, and Mikoto was just trying to get under his skin.

“For someone who’s normally so calm, you’re actin’ pretty frazzled.”

Reisi sighed, avoiding Mikoto’s eyes. “It has been one of those weeks.”

“Ya know, there are other ways of relieving stress…”

“If you are propositioning me, Suoh…”

“I didn’t say anythin’ about sex. Your mind is in the gutter.”

“You didn’t need to say anything about it.”

“I know. ‘Cause you’ve been makin’ goo-goo eyes at me all evening.”

“I have not.”

“Reisi,” Mikoto cut in, and the sound of his given name sent a jolt down Reisi’s spine. Mikoto stepped closer once more, and the narrow slice of air between them seemed to tingle with static, like a magnetic field. Reisi couldn’t avoid his eyes anymore, and when he looked up, he saw his friend staring at him with a deep, burning intensity that made Reisi feel as though the gravity in the room had weakened all of a sudden. His hands came to rest on Reisi’s waist, and he had begun to lean in, ever so slowly, and Reisi feared Mikoto would hear the thundering of his pulse through his skin.

When their lips finally brushed together, the contact was gentle, almost tender. Reisi leaned into the warmth of Mikoto’s embrace, resting his hands on his shoulders, and turned his head into the contact. Wherever their skin touched, Reisi almost felt like it was burning. The sounds of the bar outside the door had faded away into white noise; he wasn’t aware of anything but Mikoto.

They broke apart after only a few seconds, but it had felt like much longer, and the end of the kiss brought Reisi back to reality with a jolt. He pulled back and covered his mouth with his hand.

“What?” Mikoto asked.

“This is irresponsible.”

“Why?”

“We are not compatible; we are the Kings of rival clans. It would only end…”

“Reisi,” Mikoto said, and once again, the sound of his first name in Mikoto’s voice, with a sort of affectionate softness to it that Reisi had never heard before, slowed Reisi’s train of thought to a juddering halt. “You ought to give yourself permission to let go every once in a while. No wonder you’re so stressed.”

Reisi paused, biting his lip. Perhaps Mikoto had a point. Perhaps it would be good for him to let his hair down, to let himself have something he wanted every now and then, to not worry about being poised and proper for once. If Reisi was perfectly honest, one of the reasons he’d been so stressed lately was because he’d been bottling up his emotions for too long- pretending he wasn’t drowning under the weight of his responsibilities, pretending he wasn’t completely head over heels for his best friend… Everything he’d squashed down inside himself had festered until it made him sick, and right now, he didn’t think he had the strength to keep crushing it down.

The next thing he knew, he was kissing Mikoto again, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders and pressing their bodies close, and Mikoto was kissing him back, surprisingly softly. The way he held Reisi was almost affectionate, his hands firmly on his waist, but Reisi was much more eager. He kissed Mikoto deeply, urgently, and Mikoto matched his passion, pushing him slowly back towards the wall to pin him against the tiles. Their lips parted and their tongues slid forward to meet, their hands beginning to wander to pull each other’s bodies as close together as they would go, so their chests were flush against each other, and Reisi could feel Mikoto’s ragged breathing. His hands left trails of goosebumps as they wandered up and down Reisi’s back, then slid down to grope his ass. Reisi let out a quiet, involuntary groan into Mikoto’s mouth at the touch, and slipped his hands up the back of his shirt in retaliation to roam across the hard muscle of Mikoto’s back. Then, cheekily, he raked his nails downwards, and a grunt of arousal escaped Mikoto’s throat. He tugged on Reisi’s lower lip in revenge, and Reisi gasped, opening his eyes briefly to see Mikoto smirking at him.

And then the door of the bathroom opened, jolting them both back to reality. Thankfully, it was just Izumo, and not some traumatised stranger.

“There ya are. I was worried ya’d got into a fight.”

Reisi averted his eyes from the Red clansman, mortified.

“Well, I’m glad you’re gettin’ along, but ya might wanna find a better place for it than the men’s room of some seedy bar. It ain’t classy.” He was speaking more to Mikoto than Reisi, by the sounds of it. “Ya should probably scram, before someone else wanders in. An’ be safe,” he added with a wink, then he clapped Mikoto on the shoulder in friendly encouragement, then turned and left the bathroom.

Reisi’s head fell forward against Mikoto’s shoulder, and he groaned in embarrassment.

“He’s right,” Mikoto pointed out.

“I know… I can’t believe I let you talk me into making out in a restroom like some testosterone-crazed teenager.”

“I didn’t do much talking.”

Reisi tugged on his earlobe with his teeth in rebuttal, then turned and hurried from the room, his hand clamped around Mikoto’s wrist to tow him along behind him. “Are you still sober enough to drive?”

“Yeah.”

“Your place or mine?”

“Yours. I doubt you’d approve of the state of my room.”

“Yes, I wouldn’t imagine so.”

“Plus Anna is probably asleep, so we’d have to be quiet.”

There was something about Mikoto being the considerate father figure that only made him seem hotter.

“I have no plans to be quiet. My dormitory at Tsubaki-Mon is relatively soundproof.”

“Good.”

By that point, they’d gotten back to where the motorcycle was parked, and they quickly donned their helmets and climbed back onto the vehicle. The closeness certainly wasn’t helping the situation between Reisi’s thighs, nor were the vibrations of the engine being kicked into life. He had to fight the urge to allow his hands to wander downwards from where he held onto Mikoto’s waist, reasoning that distracting him while he was driving would be a very dangerous move.

Thankfully, the ride passed quickly (Reisi once again suspected that Mikoto had been driving considerably over the speed limit, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful for it) and it wasn’t long before they pulled up outside Sceptre 4’s headquarters and half-leapt off the motorcycle. Reisi led Mikoto at a brisk walk through the corridors, relieved there was nobody around to see him towing the Red King towards his dormitory, and fumbled with the keys to let them into his apartment, his hands shaking in anticipation. Finally, he managed to get the door open, and the pair piled inside and locked the door behind them, but before Mikoto could pin him against the wall again, Reisi stopped him and cleared his throat.

“Before this progresses any further… I was not anticipating bringing anyone home tonight, and there are certain things that I would very much like to do with you, but they require a certain amount of preparedness, so while I still have enough of my wits to push you away, I am going to excuse myself for a moment. You are welcome to make yourself comfortable.”

Mikoto smirked. “Don’t be long.”

Reisi shot him a glare for the teasing tone in his voice, then escaped to the bathroom before those eyes pulled him in again. Once the door was safely closed, he hurried about the task of cleaning himself up, spritzing a little cologne on himself and taking a swig of mouthwash. If anything, the trembling of his hands had only gotten worse since they’d arrived at his dorm. He couldn’t help but be nervous; he’d wanted Mikoto for so long that the prospect of letting himself have him was… sort of terrifying. What if it wasn’t everything he had always daydreamed about? And what if it was, and it only added fuel to the stubborn crush that had been simmering away in some forgotten part of his mind for longer than Reisi cared to admit? What if Mikoto didn’t feel the same way, and this was just sex to him, just a friends with benefits arrangement? It seemed cruel to give himself a taste of the person he wanted the most, only to know it would never happen again, or never be quite enough for him. As much as the idea of being friends with benefits appealed to Reisi, he knew that it would just tear him apart in the end - the tease of being with him, but not quite in the way he wanted, would frustrate him until he reached breaking point…

He shook the thoughts from his head as he noticed them accelerating into what would surely become a panicked frenzy. There was no need to be so worst-case-scenario; he was just nervous, and it was playing tricks on him. Or at least, that was what he told himself. He splashed his face with water to centre himself, then took a deep breath as he patted his face dry with a towel.

Ultimately, there was no point in worrying about all that. There was no way he was turning this opportunity down, and he could worry about the consequences later. If there even were any. Apart from anything else, the aching desire in his underwear had built to the point of no return, and he dread to think of stopping now. Testosterone was beginning to cloud his better judgement, but Reisi dismissed the concern by reasoning that Mikoto was right: Reisi didn’t let himself go often enough, which was probably why he was so stressed. What better opportunity to relax his self-restraint than right now?

Before Reisi had time to cross-examine the bias of that rationale, he pushed the door of the bathroom open to re-join Mikoto, hoping the sight of him would quiet the internal debate raging inside his head.

And it certainly did; Mikoto was lying on Reisi’s bed completely in the nude, rooting through one of his bedside drawers.

“You know, it’s impolite to search through somebody else’s private things, Suoh.”

“Looking for where you keep the condoms and the lube. Found some,” he said, laying the bottle and the foil packet on top of the bedside table within easy reaching distance. “Along with this,” he added, dangling a small bullet vibrator between his fingers with a smirk.

“Those aren’t just for women, you know,” Reisi said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “The others are in the box under my bed; there wasn’t room for them in the drawer. But if I wanted to play with toys, I wouldn’t have brought you home.”

Mikoto chuckled, then dropped the vibrator back into the drawer and lay back on the bed. _God_ he was handsome; he was surprisingly tan for the amount of time he spent asleep indoors, and his body was lean and graceful, the sculpted muscle moving fluidly beneath the skin as he shifted positions. Reisi drank in the sight of him, the countless fading battle scars and the bulging muscle of his thighs and arms, the almost leonine way his powerful body moved…

Reisi was struck all at once by a dozen fantasies about those arms throwing him around, and he had to clear his throat to steady his breathing.

But the thing that Reisi found it most difficult to keep his eyes off was between Mikoto’s thighs. He was already hard, and seemed completely unabashed about it. Indeed, he had nothing to be abashed about- Reisi was almost intimidated by the thing now it was freed from his clothing. But in a good way. Another dozen vivid mental images assaulted the forefront of Reisi’s mind, and it wasn’t until Mikoto spoke up that he realised he’d simply been standing there, staring.

“You can touch, you know.”

Reisi didn’t need telling twice. He crossed the room hurriedly, pulling his shirt off as he did so, and climbed onto the bed on top of Mikoto. Their lips crushed together immediately, picking up right where they had left off before they’d been interrupted, and their hands flew to one another’s bodies to roam across the newly-bared skin, savouring every inch. Mikoto’s teeth clamped down hard on Reisi’s lower lip, and as he gasped at the slight pain, Mikoto took advantage of his momentary surprise. The next thing Reisi knew, he was on his back. Mikoto crawled on top of him, his mouth instantly gravitating to his jaw, just below his ear, working his way down his neck with kisses. As he reached his shoulder, Mikoto bit down and started sucking none-too-gently on the skin, and Reisi had to bite back a yelp, but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t love the pain. Nobody had ever been rough with him like this - he supposed it was something about being a King; he was always expected to take the lead. But if he was honest with himself, he liked this much better, surrendering to Mikoto’s touch, arching his back towards his teeth. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being the one in control, but right now, losing himself was exactly what he wanted. After all the stress of the past few weeks, letting himself fall to putty in Mikoto’s hands was a relief.

And Mikoto seemed to know it. His touch was demanding, roving up and down Reisi’s side as his mouth finally detached from Reisi’s shoulder, leaving a deep red stain haloed with teeth marks that would inevitably form quite a sizeable bruise. Reisi was rather pleased with it – there was something about the man he wanted leaving wounds on his skin that sent heat prickling down his spine. It was almost like a mark of ownership, and the idea of belonging to him was an appealing one, to say the least.

It seemed Mikoto wasn’t finished, either. Almost as soon as his teeth had left Reisi’s shoulder, they had latched onto his collarbone, and then they moved down onto his chest, until half a dozen bruises blossomed across Reisi’s skin, and his hips were bucking involuntarily up towards Mikoto’s. He could barely bite back the whimpers of pained pleasure, and his craving for something more was beginning to build to breaking point. Mikoto was smirking, clearly very aware of Reisi’s predicament. He seemed to be taking a particular joy in teasing his friend, reducing a man who was normally so composed, so controlled, into a whimpering, writhing mess.

But his cruelty had its limit, and before Reisi had to resort to begging, Mikoto finally pulled away from his chest, seeming satisfied with his handiwork, and started kissing down his torso. His lips trailed hurriedly down his ribcage and over his stomach as he tugged at the fly of Reisi’s jeans. As soon as he had it open, he pulled them down in such a hurry that Reisi feared he might tear the stitches. Once the garment was on the floor, it was immediately followed by Reisi’s underwear, and he lay completely naked beneath his friend, whose gaze roamed hungrily across his body. However, his admiration was interrupted by Reisi’s hiss of impatience. Mikoto smirked at his eagerness.

“What do you want me to do?” The huskiness of his voice sent goosebumps down Reisi’s back.

“Anything you want.”

“You’re a very different person in the bedroom. It’s weird seeing you not bossy.”

“Outside of the bedroom, you violate laws and cause a public menace and recklessly push your Weismann level, towards its limit,” Reisi couldn’t keep his eyes off Mikoto’s lips as he spoke – his friend was kneeling between his thighs, and he was aching for him to touch him. He was surprised by his own ability to form cogent sentences. “But now is your chance to make it up to me for all the headaches you’ve given me.”

“And how do you want me to do that?”

By now, Reisi’s patience was wearing thin, and he simply reached up to cup the back of Mikoto’s neck and pull his head down. Mikoto needed no more encouragement- his mouth immediately closed around the head of Reisi’s cock, and Reisi let out a groan of relief, fisting his fingers in Mikoto’s hair. It seemed Mikoto was satisfied with the amount of teasing he’d done so far, so he set straight to work, pushing his head downwards to take as much as he could fit into his mouth before lifting up again slowly, sucking gently and tracing patterns on the flesh with his tongue as he did so.

Reisi relaxed into his touch, his head falling back onto the pillows as he let out a groan of satisfaction, slightly louder than he had intended. Every nerve ending felt as though it was on fire- the ecstasy of the heat and the friction felt so deliciously good after waiting so long for it, but even more intense was the disbelief. How many times had Reisi fantasised about having Mikoto alone like this? How many times had he woken from dreams about his friend doing exactly this? How many times had he had to talk himself down, trying to reason to himself that it could never happen? And now Mikoto’s mouth was around his cock, and his hazel eyes were fixed on Reisi’s face as his lips slid up and down, slowly increasing in tempo until Reisi was gripping at the sheets. The lust smouldering in Mikoto’s gaze as he watched Reisi’s face intently, drinking in every morsel of his reaction to his ministrations… Reisi almost felt like he was hallucinating. The idea that Mikoto wanted him so badly that he’d pinned him to a wall and half-torn his clothes off seemed so incredibly ludicrous, but the white-hot pleasure radiating up Reisi’s spine was proof enough that it couldn’t be anything other than real. The desire in Mikoto’s eyes and in his movements, and the diligence in the way he moved his mouth, obviously trying every trick he knew to pleasure his partner, were the most erotic things Reisi had ever experienced. He had wanted him for so long that seeing Mikoto want him back so urgently was derailing every single one of his trains of thought until he was running completely on impulse, bucking his hips up towards his mouth, tightening his grip on Mikoto’s hair until he moaned at the pain, letting the lewdest and most embarrassing noises escape his lips without complaint. If Mikoto wanted him, then Reisi had no problem giving him every last inch of himself.

Reisi only came back to reality when Mikoto lifted his head away, and a whine of disappointment escaped his lips involuntarily. He felt his cheeks beginning to flush as his senses reconvened just enough for him to be aware of quite how thoroughly he’d let himself go. But judging by the look in Mikoto’s eye and the precum beading at the head of his erection, he had enjoyed the way Reisi fell apart under his tongue, which at least made Reisi feel a little bit better.

“As much as it’s fun watchin’ ya squirm, I didn’t come here just to suck you off.”

Reisi cleared his throat. “Quite. Whilst I would very much enjoy a session of simply using our mouths, right now I would very much like to be filled.”

“We can sixty nine some other time,” Mikoto agreed, and a thrill ran down Reisi’s spine. The prospect of this being a repeat occurrence hadn’t even been something he’d dared to hope for.

“I’m sure there is a great long list of things I would very much like to do with you...”

“I can think of at least ten things off the top of my head.” The way Mikoto smirked made Reisi dizzy for a moment.

“But right now, there are only two things I want.”

“And what are those?”

“I want to return the favour, and then I want you…” It suddenly occurred to Reisi that all the ways of describing what he wanted Mikoto to do to him that sprung to mind were far lewder than anything in his usual vocabulary. He couldn’t even remember the last time he swore, and the words stuck in his throat.

"There's no-one around to judge you for sayin' somethin' unprofessional, Reisi."

"I want you to fuck me into the mattress."

He saw Mikoto shiver at the words.

"But first I want to return the favour," he repeated hurriedly, and another smirk tugged the corner of Mikoto's lips.

"I ain't gonna say no," he said, and Reisi sat up to grip his waist and sit him up. Mikoto allowed Reisi to manipulate him onto his knees with an intrigued look in his eyes, and he watched as Reisi positioned himself on all fours in front of him, his face level with Mikoto's hips.

"You like it rough, don't you?" Mikoto asked suddenly.

Reisi cleared his throat. "Perhaps.”

"Yes or no?"

"Yes."

Mikoto tangled his fingers in the roots of Reisi's hair and met his eyes, raising an eyebrow as though asking permission, and Reisi nodded in encouragement, his lips falling open. The next thing he knew, Mikoto’s cock was in his mouth, having pulled his head forward with a yank on his hair, and Reisi moaned at the taste of him on his tongue. Mikoto’s grip remained tight in Reisi’s dark locks, and he let out a low, soft groan at the sensation that made Reisi shudder with arousal. Gently, he pulled Reisi's head back up and then pushed it down once more, only a fraction of an inch, and Reisi moaned encouragingly. Mikoto didn't need to be told again - immediately, his free hand cupped the back of Reisi's neck and he pulled his head down towards his hips, then held it in place as he started thrusting into his mouth. His grip was loose enough that Reisi could have pulled away at any time if he’d wanted to, and Mikoto seemed careful not to choke him, but it the manhandling was more than convincing enough to stoke the arousal burning in the pit of Reisi’s stomach. He was so turned on by the rough treatment that it almost hurt. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes slid closed, savouring Mikoto's reaction. Mikoto was normally so... not quite composed, but he kept his emotions well concealed. But now, alone with Reisi, cracks were beginning to split through that mirror-like exterior, and his true reactions were seeping through. His breathing was ragged, and every so often it would hitch. His chest heaved and his fingers twitched and tightened in his hair; sweat began to bead on his skin. Low groans were starting to rise from his chest, gruff and almost feral, more like growls than moans.

Mikoto's reactions to Reisi's mouth were almost more enjoyable than Mikoto's own ministrations. Hearing his voice as he hissed through his teeth, not quite biting back the moans, sent white hot electricity searing through every one of Reisi's nerves. He tried his best to encourage more of those sounds, trying to copy the way Mikoto had sucked and moved his tongue that had felt so good, but the way Mikoto was handling him made it difficult to be precise. Not that Mikoto seemed to mind; when Reisi finally opened his eyes to look up at him, he was staring down at him with ecstasy burning in his eyes. His teeth were clamped around his bottom lip, and after a moment, his head tipped back.

"Fuck... Reisi..."

The sound of Mikoto groaning his name made Reisi's vision turn briefly white around the edges, but he was interrupted when Mikoto pulled his head off him suddenly and lifted him to kneel up so their faces were level. Mikoto kissed him deeply, panting hard against his lips. His skin burned from the quickened pace of his pulse. When he pulled away, he stared at his lover with a look that Reisi tried his best to burn into his memory.

"You satisfied you've returned the favour now?"

Before Reisi could reply, Mikoto kissed him again.

"'Cause I really wanna get on with doing the other thing you asked for."

"I am more than happy for you to do so..." Reisi began, and then Mikoto's hands were on his chest, pushing him roughly down onto his back. He pulled his thighs apart hurriedly, then tore his eyes away from the sight of him spread out beneath him to turn and grab the bottle of lubricant and pour some onto his fingers. As he did so, Reisi positioned a pillow under his hips, trying to ignore the way his hands were shaking.

"Ready?"

Reisi couldn't nod fast enough, and Mikoto hastened to position himself between his legs. Reisi watched his hand sink downwards, enraptured, and then let out a gasp as it found its target, rubbing slow circles against his entrance.

"Mikoto..." he breathed, staring up at his face.

Mikoto bit his lip as he slid a fingertip inside him, and Reisi's eyes screwed closed as his breath snagged in his throat. His movements were slow and measured, pressing a little deeper into him with each gentle thrust until his finger was buried to the second knuckle, and then all the way inside, and Reisi had to bite back an embarrassingly loud groan. His touch felt good, of course, but the knowledge that Suoh Mikoto was _inside him,_ staring at him laid out on his bed like a starving man at a slab of meat, preparing him to fuck him, only intensified the pleasure a dozen fold. Mikoto licked his lips as he watched Reisi roll his lips underneath him, and Reisi shuddered.

Contrary to the way Mikoto had been treating him a moment ago, he was all of a sudden being very gentle, his movements careful and precise. He took his time, giving Reisi plenty of opportunity to adjust to the first finger before adding a second, much slower than the first. But after a while, it began to feel more like teasing than meticulousness, and Reisi was practically fucking himself on Mikoto's hand; he rolled his hips fervently, trying to force the two digits inside himself deeper, craving more of that feeling of fullness. When Mikoto finally slid the third finger inside him, Reisi let out a long, low groan of satisfaction at the throbbing pleasure, the jolts of white-hot ecstasy every time the tip of Mikoto's finger brushed his sweet spot.

Reisi had almost lost track of time by the time Mikoto finally withdrew his fingers. As frustrating as it was to be touched like that, almost torturously slowly when all Reisi wanted was to be fucked until he couldn't form a coherent sentence, there was something sort of sweet about it. It proved Mikoto cared about him, that he was trying his best not to hurt him, to ease him into it so whatever he planned to do to him next would only be enjoyable. It filled Reisi's abdomen with an odd fluttery sensation. He hadn't really considered the prospect of Mikoto having a tender side, but being on the receiving end of his concern almost felt as good as what he'd been doing with his hands.

Once Mikoto had slid his fingers out, he took a moment to admire the sight of Reisi sprawled out underneath him, waiting to be filled. His eyes raked down Reisi's body, down from his face and over his torso, down his thighs and up to stare at what was between them. The delight and the craving in his eyes made Reisi ache with longing. All of a sudden, his own impatience mounted from a pining for him to continue with his moreish attentions to a full-blown _need_. His whole body ached with the force of it. As Mikoto tore his eyes away to roll a condom onto himself and slick the outside of it with more of the lubricant, Reisi reached up to grab him by the shoulders and kiss him deeply, unable to bear the sight of him touching himself. It was as though every shred of his self-control, his self-respect, his dignity, had dissolved in a heartbeat, evaporated by the heat that had been building up in the pit of his stomach. All he could think about was Mikoto; all he _wanted_ to think about was Mikoto. He needed him as close as he could possibly be, needed their bodies pressed flush together, needed their lips crushed against one another. He wanted to sink into his partner and forget about anything that existed outside of his body. It felt like all the months and months of pining had boiled over all at once, shattering through Reisi’s already tattered restraint. The stress, and the alcohol, and the joy he’d felt being alone with Mikoto in the woods, and now the euphoria of seeing Mikoto staring at him like he was the only man in the world…

His kisses only grew more urgent by the second as he clawed at Mikoto’s back, trying to draw him closer as Mikoto shifted positions between his thighs, pressing their hips close, then pulling back to position the head of his cock against Reisi’s entrance. Reisi froze, gasping against his lips at the gentle pressure. His whole body ached with anticipation, and he could feel the desire to beg beginning to bubble up to the surface. But thankfully, the suspense only had the chance to continue for a few more heartbeats before finally, blissfully, Mikoto began to press himself inside.

Reisi let out a long gasp of relief at the sensation, digging his nails into Mikoto's shoulders. Mikoto's movements were steady and gentle at first, which Reisi admittedly was grateful for - he was just slow enough that the feeling of being stretched and filled was almost achingly good.

"Mikoto... God..."

Mikoto moved his hands to grip Reisi's thighs, staring down at him as he slid inside him. His eyes flickered up and down from Reisi's face to where their bodies joined, and he was biting his lip again. Reisi watched the way he looked at him raptly, fisting his fingers in the sheets as Mikoto moved inside him. He was so careful at first, almost painfully slow, letting only a few inches slip inside before pulling back again, pressing a little deeper with each thrust. He kept his attention fixed on Reisi's reaction, pausing every time he hissed or gasped in a way that sounded the slightest bit like pain. It was touching, in an odd sort of way - Reisi had never seen Mikoto be so careful with anyone.

But at the same time, once a few minutes had passed, Reisi decided he'd had enough of it; the initial waves of pleasure had begun to subside, and now the slow treatment was becoming almost torturous. He let out an encouraging groan, and rolled his hips towards Mikoto, trying to push him deeper, increase the tempo a little. Mikoto squeezed his eyes closed briefly at the pleasure, and a grunt escaped his lips. For a moment, he seemed to be trying to resist, but as Reisi quickened his movements once more, he finally gave in, letting out a blissful sigh as he quickened to match Reisi's pace, letting himself press deeper into him with each thrust until finally, he was hilt-deep inside him, and Reisi saw stars bursting behind his pupils.

The quiet moans that had been rising from Reisi’s lips suddenly doubled in volume, going from high and needy to low and satisfied. His grip tightened on Mikoto's shoulders, pulling him down so that their bodies were pressed as close together as possible. With each new wave of pleasure, he clung onto him tighter, vaguely aware of his nails clawing at the skin beneath them, inevitably leaving deep red welts across Mikoto's back for his troubles. Mikoto seemed to be enjoying it, though; he had buried his face in Reisi's neck, gripping his thighs tightly with his hands as he rocked his hips to match Reisi's movements. The noises escaping him were no longer measured and controlled - the short, gruff moans, barely a heartbeat long before Mikoto cut them off in his throat, had been replaced by almost growls, hungry and passionate and feral in Reisi's ear as his breath came in heavy gasps. The sound of it right against Reisi's jaw sent goosebumps all the way down the length of his spine.

"Mikoto...!" he heard himself whimper.

Mikoto groaned his name in turn, pulling at Reisi's earlobe with his teeth. His thrusts were slow but deep, almost precise, as though trying to aim for where he knew would please Reisi the most. He was succeeding. Each thrust sent out a fresh shockwave of pleasure that radiated outwards all the way to Reisi's fingertips. His vision was beginning to blur, and he no longer had control of the noises coming out of his lips; Mikoto's name flooded out of his mouth over and over again, desperate and rapturous. His hips rolled towards Mikoto's without him ever meaning for them to as he clung to him, almost for dear life.

Being with Mikoto hadn't been what Reisi had expected. He'd thought it would be rough and hot and steamy, but impersonal - scratching an itch, or something like that. But it wasn’t. This was intimate and passionate. While the almost feral desire of both of them was written all over the way their nails raked across each other's bodies, and the way Reisi's teeth clamped down on Mikoto's shoulder to try and muffle his moans, and the way Mikoto almost growled Reisi's name into his ear, that wasn't all it was. It almost seemed... romantic. Or perhaps Reisi's brain was addled by the hormones and that was just wishful thinking. But he could hardly be blamed for thinking that way, by the way they held each other, so close that it was almost as though they were trying to fuse into one person. And the way they moved in tandem, delighting in the sensation of one another's bodies and trying as best they could, given what little control they seemed to have over their own limbs, to do everything they could to please the other. And the way that between moans, their lips would crush together, urgently and passionately, as though it would be the last time in the world they ever got to kiss another human being. And the way each other's names rolled off their tongues like prayers, the ecstasy and desire dripping from their voices…

Mikoto's hands had begun to wander away from Reisi's thighs, and he planted one on the mattress beside Reisi's head to hold himself up. As Reisi turned to the side to press kisses up the inside of his wrist, he could feel Mikoto's arm trembling from the overwhelming sensation. His groans had only gotten more desperate, and his other hand wandered up and down Reisi’s side imperatively, worshipping the skin beneath his palm. Reisi arched his back into his touch. Seeing Mikoto losing himself like this was enchanting.

By now, the heat of Mikoto's skin had almost gotten dizzying. Everywhere their bare skin was in contact, Reisi almost felt like he was tingling with static, and he could feel sweat beading on their abdomens, but he didn't have the presence of mind to care, just like he couldn't bring himself to care about the volume of the noises flooding from his mouth, or how readily Mikoto's name issued from his lips, how desperately he rolled his hips towards Mikoto's, savouring the friction and the fullness of the way he moved inside him. Each thrust seemed to send new cracks spiderwebbing across Reisi's self-awareness, until his vision was going dark at the edges and the only thing he was aware of was the bliss of Mikoto's body moving against his. The electrifying reminder came with every groan of Mikoto's voice in his ear that it was really _him_ , that Reisi was really making love to the man he'd pined after for so long; it was really Mikoto's lips that kept crushing against his own, his kisses so urgent and fervid that Reisi could barely draw breath.

It was the hyper-awareness of the fact that this was _Mikoto_ doing this to him that finally sent Reisi over the edge. The pleasure had built to the point that his whole body was trembling, like there wasn't enough room for the ecstasy inside him, and the sound of Mikoto groaning his name between kisses tipped him over. He convulsed, burying his face in Mikoto's neck as a cry of exaltation rose in his throat and the force of his orgasm knocked the wind out of him. As the shockwaves of pleasure wracked his body, he heard Mikoto's groans catch in his throat and felt his muscles tense against him, and the realisation that his partner had followed him over the edge, that Mikoto was cumming inside him, holding onto Reisi's hips so tightly that Reisi feared his fingernails might draw blood as he gave those final few jerky thrusts, only intensified the thrills shooting up his spine.

When the last waves of pleasure finally subsided, all of the strength suddenly vanished from Reisi's muscles, and he slumped back against the mattress, panting for breath. He could hear Mikoto gasping in his ear, seeming just as spent as he was, and they lay like that for a long while, still tangled in one another's arms.

It took a few minutes before Mikoto's breathing began to steady, and he lifted himself up to pull out of Reisi, remove the condom and toss it in the bin, and then flopped back down beside him. Reisi hadn't missed the way his arms had trembled as he did so. And then to Reisi's surprise, the first thing Mikoto did was snuggle up to him, pulling Reisi in against his side and tucking his arm around him. The gesture caught him completely off guard, but he lay his head on Mikoto's shoulder obligingly. He could hear his heartbeat still hammering at double its normal rate.

A long while passed in comfortable silence as they recovered their strength, enjoying the warmth of lying in each other’s arms and the blissful afterglow of their rendezvous. Reisi lost track of the time passing, but it felt like ages before their breathing finally steadied back to a resting pace.

Mikoto was the first to break the silence. “Cigarette?”

“Yes please.”

Mikoto reached down to pick up his jeans from their crumpled pile on the floor, and he fished a carton of cigarettes out of the pocket. He offered them to Reisi, then took one for himself and caught it between his lips, and leaned in so the tips of the cigarettes touched. With a click of his finger and a spark of red light, he lit them both, then leaned back, taking a deep drag.

Reisi tried his best to keep a straight face as he inhaled the smoke; as he’d caught his breath, his inhibitions had slowly begun to creep back, and he was mortified by how thoroughly he’d come apart under his friend’s hands. Of course, he totally understood why he’d done it – the prospect of getting to be with Mikoto like that was too good to waste by being self-conscious, but it didn’t make the faint smirk curling the edges of Mikoto’s lips any less embarrassing.

“You’re vocal,” Mikoto said after a moment, and Reisi huffed.

“Shut up.”

“Or was it just me? Are ya not normally like that?” he teased.

“I do not normally have casual sexual encounters with close friends. They are usually not people I know intimately, and as such I like to maintain a level of caution and reserve, and do not let myself get so…”

“Loud?”

“Unrestrained.”

“That’s an odd way of tellin’ me you trust me.”

Reisi huffed again. “I merely do not believe you are the type of man who…”

“Would drug and kidnap you?” Mikoto offered.

“I am not afraid of that sort of thing; I pity anyone who would try it. I am more concerned about the type of person who… takes condoms off mid-intercourse, and that level of misdeeds.”

“Sex definitely more fun when ya know the guy,” Mikoto agreed.

“…Does that mean you were serious, about this becoming a repeat performance?”

“Sure. You’re good. And I like it when ya scream like that.”

“I did no such thing.”

“I hope the soundproofing in here is as good as ya said it was. Didn’t expect you to be so submissive either. Expected a bit more of a fight out of you.”

“I am not usually so pliant; I have had my fair share of being dominant, too.”

“I’d like to see that.”

“I bet you would. It was merely the case that I had spent so long over the past few weeks having to remain in control at work that I very much wanted someone else to take the reins for once.”

“Well I’m happy to anytime. You’re hot when you’re squirming and screaming underneath me.”

“How lewd.”

Mikoto grinned. “Ya love me anyway.”

The mention of the word ‘love’ sent a stab of anxiety through Reisi’s chest, and he dodged the statement hurriedly. “Regardless of how good you are in the bedroom, being with you is still like breathing toxic air.”

Mikoto exhaled a plume of smoke as he chuckled, and Reisi felt another twinge of that anxiety…

Or, not really anxiety. It hurt like anxiety, but it felt more like he was too afraid to admit to himself how happy it made him to be like this, lying in Mikoto’s arms as they teased one another playfully.

_…I think I’m in love with him._

Reisi took another drag of his cigarette, and then added quietly: “But sometimes I like breathing toxic air.”

Mikoto really was like nicotine. Reisi knew he was only going to get hurt in the end; there was no way Mikoto felt the same way. But now he’d indulged himself, he didn’t know how he would live without this. He would keep coming back for his fix of Mikoto, and the knowledge that it was just casual, that it was hollow and that Mikoto didn’t care like he did, would eat away at him over time. But he would come back anyway, because the high of lying in Mikoto’s arms, basking in the afterglow of making love to him, was almost worth it, and Reisi had spent too long denying himself the things he really wanted to have the self-restraint to say no. He could feel the addiction setting in, but Mikoto was chuckling at his comment and leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Reisi’s temple, so he pushed the concern to the back of his mind.

When they stubbed out their cigarettes, Mikoto made a move to sit up. “I should stop intruding on your hospitality.”

“No. “ Reisi’s objection slipped out faster than he’d intended it to. “It is no intrusion. And besides, you are still somewhat jelly-legged, and I don’t believe it would be safe for you to drive at the present time. You are welcome to stay.”

“As in sleep over?” Mikoto quirked an eyebrow.

“If you wish, yes.”

“You didn’t care that I’d been drinking earlier, why d’ya care about me driving now?”

“My judgement was impaired earlier. I would like to make it clear that I absolutely disapprove of drink driving of any form, but it is not as though you were absolutely inebriated; you had only had a couple of drinks over the space of more than an hour.”

“…And you wanted sex.”

Reisi went to push his glasses up his nose in annoyance, but realised too late that he had taken them off in the bathroom earlier. He cleared his throat, and Mikoto laughed. The sound caught Reisi off guard; it was so rare for Mikoto to express joy so freely, and it made his heart tighten in his chest.

_Yes. I think I really might be in love with him._

“Do you want to stay over or not?”

Mikoto lay back down again, tightening his arm around Reisi once more. “Sure.”

Reisi had to stop himself from breathing a sigh of relief. As he relaxed back into Mikoto’s embrace, a wave of tiredness overcame him. It seemed the exertion, both from their sparring match earlier and from their more recent escapades, had caught up with him all at once, and he felt his eyelids drooping as he settled in against Mikoto’s arm, yawning.

“Falling asleep without saying goodnight? I thought you’d be a better host than that,” Mikoto teased, but he too was clearly biting back a yawn.

“What would you like, a goodnight kiss?” Reisi shot back.

“What if I said yes?”

Reisi’s ribcage felt like it was being constricted all of a sudden, but he tried his best to play it cool.

“Then what kind of a host would I be if I said no?” With that, he leaned up to press a soft kiss to Mikoto’s lips, chaste and gentle and lingering for a moment too long, before he settled back down again. He thought he saw Mikoto smiling, but his eyelids were getting so heavy that his vision was beginning to blur.

“Night, Reisi,” Mikoto said softly.

“Night…” Reisi just about managed to get the word out before the warmth of cuddling up to his friend’s side became too much to contend with, and he fell gratefully to sleep.

* * *

 

And now he had woken up alone, and he was kicking himself for letting himself believe Mikoto’s sweet talk. The betrayal was sharp and bitter in the back of his throat. The promises that he would stay the night, the way he’d flirted so shamelessly, the way he talked about this happening again… Reisi didn’t have him pegged for the type that would go back on his word so dramatically, but apparently he’d been wrong. Mortifyingly, he almost wanted to cry. He had been so looking forward to being with him again, getting another opportunity to pretend that they were the only two people in the world, but apparently he had overindulged his optimism, and overestimated Mikoto’s character…

And then the bathroom door opened, and in a cloud of steam, Mikoto emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. What was visible of his upper body was littered with bruises and scratches, some evidently from sparring in the woods, and others which looked more like they were caused by Reisi’s nails and teeth.

Reisi sat bolt upright, overcome by mortification at having jumped to conclusions, but it wasn’t quite as strong as the relief that he hadn’t been abandoned after all. He was frozen in place as Mikoto walked over to him and gave him a brief, chaste kiss on the lips, and then paused.

“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Mikoto said.

It took a moment for Reisi to muster the ability to speak – the shock of the kiss, and the relief that he’d been wrong in his assumption had him unable to summon any words for a moment. “…I thought you’d left,” he admitted finally.  

Mikoto sat down on the edge of the mattress beside him. “Why’d I do that? I said I was gonna stay the night.”

“It was just casual. Most casual sexual partners either do not sleep over, or they leave before the other wakes up.”

“If that’s how it normally goes, why d’ya seem so upset?”

“I’m not upset.”

“Reisi.”

He sighed. “It’s nothing. I’m being silly; I was just surprised to wake up and find you gone.”

“You didn’t want this to go like every other casual fling,” Mikoto hazarded, and Reisi felt a stab of panic that Mikoto had caught on to how he felt.

“What are you…?” Reisi scrambled to deny it, but Mikoto cut him off.

“Neither do I.”

“…What?”

“I don’t want it to be like a casual fling either. Do I seem like the kinda guy who normally cuddles and sleeps over with casual one night stands?”

“…Well no.”

“For someone who’s normally so smart, you kinda dropped the ball on that one.”

“Are you saying you want this to be more than a casual encounter?”

“I thought you would’a gathered that from the cuddling and the kissing.”

Reisi’s heartbeat was thundering so quickly that he felt dizzy. The shock and excitement made him lightheaded. All he could muster to say was: “Really?”

“I’ve wanted you for months. Seemed like everyone could tell but you – Kusanagi figured it out, Totsuka figured it out, even Yata, and Yata doesn’t know shit about romance.” Mikoto sounded remarkably casual as he spoke.

“I didn’t think you were interested. I thought you would think me too much of a nag, or that I had ‘a stick up my backside,’ as you so eloquently put it.”

“You’re just doin’ your job, and it ain’t hard to tell you nag me ‘cause you care about my wellbeing. Besides, you look good with a st-…”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Mikoto laughed.

“So you think we would work? Even with us being so different?” Reisi kicked himself for how quiet and unsure he sounded. Mikoto seemed so confident, putting himself out there like that, but Reisi couldn’t help but be daunted. He couldn’t imagine getting to be with him after all this time and then having it ripped away if they fought, or if Mikoto got tired of him.

Mikoto simply nodded, and Reisi thought he saw the faintest of smiles curling the corner of his lips. He still couldn’t quite process it.

“And you are sure you really want us to be…?”

“’Boyfriends’ is what the kids call it these days, I think.”

The word sounded so strange coming out of Mikoto’s mouth, but it was a good kind of strange.

“I actually have a confession,” Mikoto added.

“Oh?”

“I said last night when you were on the bike that you had to hold on to me. There are actually handles you can hold onto.”

“Suoh, how sly.”

“You weren’t complaining.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

The two of them smiled at the banter, but Reisi’s mind was still racing at a thousand miles an hour. He didn’t quite dare to believe it was real, and then Mikoto leaned in, cupping his jaw and pressing their lips together, and it couldn’t have been anything else. The high that came from just that gentle kiss knocked the breath out of Reisi’s lungs. It would take him a long time to get used to this.

 

 

 


End file.
